


Late Night Dinner

by atvz



Category: Christmas in Connecticut (1945)
Genre: Barbara Stanwyck - Freeform, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Bloating, Burping, Comfort Food, Dennis Morgan, F/M, Food Porn, World War II, tw: emotional eating, tw: overeating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atvz/pseuds/atvz
Summary: Jefferson Jones is spending Christmas at Elizabeth Lane's farmhouse in New England. After waking up from a bad dream, he decides to raid the icebox for some comfort eating.
Kudos: 7





	Late Night Dinner

Jefferson Jones woke up with a jolt, in a cold sweat. It was another bad dream. They had been plaguing him ever since his rescue. He had hoped that this trip to the country and change of scenery could help, but it seemed that wasn't the case. He sat up in bed with an uneasy groan, knowing he wouldn't fall back asleep for hours. The house was dead silent, everyone was asleep. He looked out the window, snow was falling gently. 

He crept downstairs, being careful not to hit any creaky floorboards. He got his navy overcoat from the hall closet, and slipped it on over his robe and pjs. He went out the front door for some fresh air. He slowly walked to the end of the driveway and back, trying to breathe slowly and just listen to the wind in the trees, hoping to calm his nerves. He stepped into the barn, and gave Macushla the cow a firm pat on the rump. He walked over to the horses' stalls, and the mare pushed her muzzle into his chest, breathing gently, while he rubbed her velvety nose. The animals helped to calm him, but he was starting to feel the cold and decided to head back inside.

He came in one of the side entrances into the kitchen. Elizabeth had made a delicious dinner, and he wondered if there were any leftovers. He opened the icebox and practically heard an angels' chorus as he looked in. He started pulling things out of the icebox and carefully placing them on the kitchen table. If he so much as dropped a teaspoon on the ceramic tile floor, it could wake up the whole house. He took off his coat and threw it over another chair, and took a seat on one of the high bar chairs, ready to dig in.

He started with a couple pieces of chicken, even cold it was still so good and seasoned perfectly. Jones added a heap of mashed potatoes to his plate, and threw a handful of chopped herbs and garlic sprouts on top. There was still half a bottle of wine in the icebox; he pulled the cork out and poured some into a crystal glass. He took a few gulps and continued scarfing it all down. The leftover romaine salad was still fresh and crispy, and he covered it in creamy dressing, and enjoyed two more cheddar biscuits with butter. He drank down the rest of the first glass of wine before pouring another. He paused, he felt a bit of gas bubbling up in his stomach. He was by himself and so table manners weren't a consideration, he sat back and let out a nice burp. He patted his belly, but he realized he was eating a little too fast and better slow down. 

He made another trip over to the icebox, and pulled out some of the previous day's lunch items. He took some French bread from a basket on the counter, tore off a few pieces, and ate them with some cheeses, smoked meat, and spicy mustard. His belly was feeling bloated, and he let out a few more satisfying burps. He opened his robe, loosened the drawstring on his pyjama pants, and pushed down the waistband, giving his belly more room to breathe. He rubbed his enormous belly with both hands, and groaned happily. He was still eager to stuff himself with dessert. 

There was one serving of chocolate mousse left, his favourite, and he scarfed it down heartily. It was perfect; rich and dark with a bit of coffee flavour. Then he opened a large tin filled with cookies, brownies, and donuts that he had watched Elizabeth deep fry and dust with powdered sugar and cinnamon. It all smelled so good, he would have to try a bit of each to satisfy himself.

Elizabeth was a light sleeper, and was awakened by the rustling in the kitchen. She put on her robe and headed down. As she came down the stairs, she heard another enormous belch come from the kitchen, which made her blush.

She slowly opened the swinging kitchen door, and was very surprised to see Jefferson Jones as the culprit. He had just taken a bite of a donut and froze, wide-eyed when he saw her.

"Oh please! Go ahead! I'm happy you feel at home here."  
"Elizabeth, I'm so sorry. I had a bad dream and I just-"  
"No please, it's really ok. I thought it would be Mr. Yardley down here, he seemed insatiable at dinner."

She smiled and came closer. Jones sat up straight in his chair, but there was no hiding his massive fully belly, and he was a little embarrassed. She looked down and noticed, and reached over and gently rubbed his belly. It felt soft and gurgled quietly. She also noticed he had a bit of powdered sugar on his nose, so she grabbed a fresh linen napkin off the table and dusted it off. Her presence was warm and feminine, and it made Jones feel at ease. 

"You should have a seat next to me, there is still some wine left- ***UURRp***! Pardon me!" He burped so loudly that it practically rattled the cupboard doors. He put his hand over his mouth.

She was giggling now, admittedly she did feel a little embarrassed but it was funny to see him in such a state. She topped off his wine, poured herself a glass, and then pulled up a chair right next to him. They had felt an instant connection when they first met a few days before, and they were both feeling comfortable with each other. She enjoyed her wine while he ate his last few sugar cookies and pieces of shortbread. He sat back in his chair with a satisfied moan, he was finally glutted. He took his cigarettes out of his robe pocket, and lit one as she leaned over and rubbed his belly a little more. He was in heaven, and almost purring like a little kitten with a full tummy. 

He had always been very guarded about his feelings, but whether it was the wine in his belly or something else, he wanted to open up to her. "Elizabeth, when the war ended and I got out of the hospital, I didn't really know what I would be coming back to. But you've really made me feel welcome and at home here, and I'm so grateful."  
"That's sweet of you to say. You're welcome to stay here as long as you like, as long as I get to fatten you up." She winked. He put his hand on top of hers on his belly.  
"Mmmmmmf, sounds like a nice prospect... *urp* - sorry."

She gave his belly a playful poke. "Come on, we can clean up in the morning."

She helped him off his chair, as he was a little tipsy, and she took his arm as they slowly made their way upstairs. They bid each other good night a second time. He crashed into bed, and drifted into the deepest sleep he had had in ages. 

The next morning started with Felix coming into the kitchen to discover the remains of the previous night's festivities. "What happened?!" followed by a few Hungarian expletives. 

Elizabeth and Jones met down at the bottom of the stairs. "Mr. Jones, good morning! What'll it be? Flap jacks? Eggs? Paté?" She gave a knowing smile and a nudge with her elbow. 

He patted his belly with a faux pained expression. "Just a bicarbonate, please."


End file.
